On Maturation, Pt.1

I spent the entire 10 weeks, seven appointments, pleading with my obstetrician over issues like epidurals (getting one ASAP), induction (could I please be induced ASAP), and the size of the fetus I was carrying (me: it is HUGE versus them: it is small).

There were other issues like insurance to figure out.

There were other health concerns like anemia and dehydration and poor weight gain to manage.

There were mental health problems, too, to work through like a depressed two year-old and trying to personally adapt to an entirely new reality.

There was a home/lifestyle/friends/clients to mourn.

There was healing occurring—one person from a serious spider bite and one other person from a decade of contentious relationships.

There was a house to unpack, arrange, and clean.

There were friends to make. And they had to be really good friends with whom we could trust our child.

There were neighbors to meet, church members to meet.

There was navigating the metro area: finding new places, finding a grocery store and a bank.

I hated every minute of it. Except the cider mill, the apple orchard, the parades, and the neighbor’s fire pit (and if I’m being honest this popcorn someone made at a crafting event I attended).

On the first day of week 39 the generally disagreeable obstetrician agreed to “strip my membranes.” I took Hip to a birthday party in the park after that. It was hot and I was uncomfortable but when hadn’t I been over the course of nearly a year? Each day, except Monday, that week I had serious and consistent contractions that lasted two to four hours. They always stopped.

The contractions were strong, now that I look back on it, Tuesday evening. I took several walks around the neighborhood that day.

Waking up with the sun Wednesday morning I committed to several accomplishments including grocery shopping, pumpkin shopping, house cleaning, healthy meal preparing, and Toddler Time at the library.

And we would walk the two mile round trip.

We left early and picked out several books and DVDs for Hip. Then Hip had to go potty and he peed all over the library’s family restroom. Seriously, it was everywhere. As we headed into the library’s activity room Avery’s mom, who thinks I’m cool for some reason, asked me how I was feeling. Without control over my apparent rage, I threw my purse onto the closest table and proclaimed, “Perfectly fine! Harumph!” Several ladies looked at me sideways and scooted their children further away nervously. Other ladies, who know me, laughed and offered encouragement. I must have looked pathetic that day because no less than three people offered me a ride home. I refused, and pushed Hip home. One mile.

I accomplished all I had set out to do that day.

It began to rain, hard, that afternoon. When we went to Whole Foods I realized we had only ever gone to Whole Foods on rainy days.

During dinner, contractions started again. This was usual and I paid little attention. Hip went to bed without issue. I began to watch Tivo’d television.

Contractions began to hurt, but not so bad that I had tears. I enjoyed, though slightly distracted, the shows. The contractions were not consistent—some four minutes apart, some nine.

Around 9:00 pm I noticed that the contractions were certainly getting stronger. I began texting my sister-in-law about how to know you’re in labor. She told me I was in labor but I didn’t believe her. I began discussing whether I was in labor or not with L. At 10:00 pm, at L’s insistence, I called the on-call number to my obstetrician’s office. The on-call doctor, not my doctor, called me back and said that I may or may not be in labor but there was no reason I should not head to the hospital to be checked. She said, “If they send you home, at least you know.” I liked her immediately and wished she was my doctor. She even indicated that she would have been willing to induce me.

My anxiety began to spike over what to do with Hip, who was sleeping peacefully. My decision to not go to the hospital was entirely founded on worrying about Hip. What would we do with him? Who could watch him? Who did we trust to watch over him? Should we wake him up? Should we take him with us? Would he be scared if he woke up without us?

After I hung up with the on-call doctor I had a very painful contraction—tears. But as soon as it was over it no longer hurt. I told L that I thought we should go to the hospital because my labor/delivery plan included avoiding pain and here I was having pain. Unfortunately I had not showered in a long time. L agreed to take the baby monitor to the neighbors (so they could monitor Hip without coming over here) while I showered and then we would go to the hospital. Once in the bathroom, 15 feet away from where I was sitting, I found myself on my hands and knees on the bathtub floor unable to stand. Realizing that a shower was going to be impossible I climbed the stairs to my bedroom, during a now short break in contractions, to put my clothes on. Everything was taking too long. I felt urgent.